


Close Quarters

by Alethia



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Alec Never Shuts Up, Bets & Wagers, F/M, Pool & Billiards, Tight Spaces, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-09
Updated: 2006-06-09
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lookie here, we’re stuck together in an enclosed space with nothing to do. Again. Think someone’s trying to tell us something?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Quarters

**Author's Note:**

> Set before 2.11 “The Berrisford Agenda,” back when Alec was playing the loveable ass. Originally posted [here](http://alethialia.livejournal.com/207853.html).

“Well, this could be worse.”

“Just shut it, would you?” she snapped, so not in the mood for any more yapping. Or breathing. Or existing. On his part, anyway.

“Really, it could. They could have caught us. We could be dead. That’d put a serious cramp in the evening.”

“The rent-a-cops down there are not the type to shoot first and ask questions never, moron. And—why am I even talking about this with you?”

Alec shifted, deliberate, pressing himself all along her back. “Might as well since we’re getting all cozy and well-acquainted.” His breath puffed into her hair, right at the nape of her neck, and the warmth of it made her itchy, made her need to move.

Not that she could. No, no, not since she was stuck in an air vent—with Alec pressed the entire length of the back of her—and could not leave until the suspiciously-dedicated boys in blue down there decided to move things along already.

It would be fine if it were just her. She would have been perfectly comfortable, waiting like this. It would have been fine if they weren’t doing repairs on the air conditioning, pulling down everything but this small space, only enough for them to lie curled up in the fetal position.

Pressed against each other.

And Alec was talking. And talking. And talking some more. There was only so much a girl could take.

“Shut up!” she hissed again, more irritated than possibly ever and not bothering to hide it.

“Okay.” That was—

Way too easy. And his voice had held an edge there, so Max tensed, waiting for whatever was in his head.

It didn’t take long. She felt his muscles tense before he actually moved but when he did…

Max sucked in a breath. The fingers at the small of her back were hot…and massaging a little.

“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” she whispered, anger making her voice higher than it ever was, almost squeaky.

“Being quiet,” he whispered happily, fingers definitely massaging now, small little circles that made her want to squirm, to pull away, to push back. She had no idea.

“Stop. It,” she bit out and why was her breathing so harsh?

“You said I had to shut up. I’m just doing what you told me.”

“Well, now I’m telling you to stop that or I’m gonna kick your ass.”

He snorted, not kind. “Not unless you want to bring our two friends—and their nice eye-cams—over here to investigate.”

Please, please, let them be gone so that she could get out of here and kill Alec for being such an irritating, pompous ass. Max craned her neck forward, looking down through the grate, only to suck in a sharp gasp.

Which had nothing to do with the way Alec had slipped his fingers higher, stroking her back.

Alec leaned over, too, making an amused sound deep in his throat. “Looks like we’ll be here a little while longer, then.”

“They’re—”

“Kissing? Yeah, noticed that.” No, not just kissing, _devouring_ each other.

“Two—”

“Guys,” he finished for her. He still had the smirk in his voice and his fingers suddenly scraped down, nails scratching lightly at her skin. 

A pregnant pause. 

“Maxie…are you sweating?” Alec sounded honestly shocked, but with that undercurrent of amusement, like her only purpose in this world was for his enjoyment, and that just pissed her off even more.

Max gritted her teeth. “Get your hands off me.”

“Nope. I’m bored. And this is entertaining. So, the question becomes, are you sweating because I’m touching you or are you sweating because of the little show going on down there.”

Her eyes were pulled back, like nothing you could turn away from, and the one guy was on his _knees_ and—

Alec made a sound that was somehow appreciative. “He’s done that before,” he remarked dryly. His fingers were still moving, going lower, playing just under the waistband of her pants, hot and distracting.

Maybe if she didn’t say anything he’d shut up. Maybe she was just encouraging him and if she ignored him he’d stop.

“Hey, did you know that guys have bigger mouths, so technically they’re better suited for—”

“Oh, God, shut up, shut up, _shut up_ ,” she hissed, wiggling her hips forward, trying to get away from his hold.

Well, there went that hypothesis.

Her movements didn’t work; they didn’t get her any further away. Also, it made the metal rumble dangerously. Alec turned to stone, holding his breath just like she was, only releasing it when it became apparent that the guards were involved in other things.

His fingers were still touching skin. 

“Smart, Maxie,” he hissed, right in her ear, in that ‘you are too stupid to live’ tone he took with errant X6s and hookers.

Ugh. She shouldn’t know that. And that pissed her off even more, if it were possible. Alec was a good one for redefining her limits.

“If you’d finish molesting me then maybe I wouldn’t be forced to take drastic action,” she shot back, annoyed and hot and flushed and she was sweating.

This was all his fault.

“If you didn’t get all hot and bothered I wouldn’t be molesting you. But as it stands, I find all this endlessly amusing.”

“I am not here for your entertainment.”

“Right now you are. And—” he took a breath, obvious, “you’re turned on.” He was so pleased with himself, his tone so proud that she could help but try and jab him with an elbow.

He caught it, easy as anything. Dammit.

“Tsk. Tsk. It’s not my fault you’re harboring some kind of long and lasting desire for my body. Too bad, Maxie. Missed your chance when we were breeding partners and all. Coulda had some fun.”

“Because rape is so much fun. And if I’m any way whatsoever, it’s not because of you.”

“Mmm. Then I guess you’ve been hiding your secret fetish for the kind of homosexual love-play going on down there. Hey, I get it. You appreciate the male form, so two is better than one. I can understand—”

“Harboring your own secret man-fetish, there, pretty boy?” she sneered, trying to jerk her elbow out of his grasp, not that it was working.

He continued _talking_ , didn’t even acknowledge her: “And while I can’t relate, any time you feel the need to turn that appreciation my way, Max, feel free. I am here for you.” And he was still _touching_ her, his palm flat on the small of her back and burning into her.

Just then she heard a hoarse cry, no mistaking what that was, and Alec snickered into her hair, kind of _flexing_ his fingers against her skin.

It tore the smallest of gasps from her throat, unexpected, even to her, and Alec stilled, abrupt.

“You _are_ turned on, aren’t you?” he mused, darker somehow, more intent.

“I am _not_.” It sounded weak to her own ears, and stupid. She could smell herself, too, no escaping it here.

“Not surprising, though. I figure, pretty much anything would get you going after the big old nada you’ve had for a year.”

She checked through the grate and yep, they were moving off, finished with their little rendezvous.

Max slid down the shaft, Alec’s fingers breaking from her skin making it a little easier to breathe. She reached the opening and crawled out, limber and skilled, dropping to the ground on a pleased sigh and taking off immediately.

She really needed to get away from Alec. Killing him would require physical contact and she didn’t need any more of that, thank you very much.

***

Max came to slowly, feeling the throbbing in her neck that told her that someone had injected her with something. And now she was in a dark space…on top of someone.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she mumbled, trying to move or turn over or do anything but be on top of Alec. She knew it was him, his smell overpowering here.

But no, the world was not that kind.

Alec groaned and cleared his throat, shifting underneath her. Well, at least they weren’t face-to-face. But he’d have some serious hell to pay if he moved his legs very much. She was not getting out of this with bruises to her face.

She pinched his calf, the only part of him she could easily reach with her hands. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

“You’re sure no Prince Charming,” he grumbled, trying to move, knees and hips poking into her uncomfortably with the effort.

“Hey! Quit it!”

“I think my legs are asleep,” he whined, pathetic.

“That’s because I’m on top of them, idiot.”

“So this is your fault.” He sounded honestly annoyed and Max allowed herself to enjoy it for a moment…and then she remembered what he’d said.

“Who’s the one who had to go looking for the steelheads again, using all those brains scientists put in your head,” she snapped, using her hands to shape out where they were. She could hear him doing the same thing.

“No one asked you to come.”

“Like I was gonna let you go off and get into trouble on your own.”

“Yeah, well you were a real help. Thanks.”

She grunted, trying to reach further back toward his head but getting nothing. “Some kind of box,” she said, feeling around to see if there was a catch or a handle or something. It smelled like sweat and dirt, Alec overlaying all of that.

Alec slumped underneath her. “It’s one of their coffins,” he said, miserable.

“The ones they sleep in? Gross.”

“We’re gonna be covered in steelhead spooge, I just know it. I’ll never be able to look at myself again.”

“Yeah, let’s focus on that right now.”

There was a bit of silence…and then his hand landed on her leg.

“What the hell do you—”

“Maxie,” he purred. “Lookie here, we’re stuck together in an enclosed space with nothing to do. Again. Think someone’s trying to tell us something?”

“I think you better remove your hand before you lose it,” she snarled, trying to shift herself away from him. It didn’t work at all, only making her knock her elbows into the wood of the coffin, sharp pain making her gasp.

His hand moved and finally, he was seeing reason.

Only to come back lower, where her boots were, moving up under the edge of her pants to find the skin of her calf.

She _hated_ him. So much.

Alec made a pleased sound, low, fingers stroking up and down, up and down, and Max had to force herself to breathe.

“Do you think these are airtight?”

“Nah, that’s just you turned on again. Guess we answered the me vs. gay guys question,” he said, pushing her pants up as high as they’d go, tickling the back of her knee.

“I hate you,” she growled, moving her leg as far away as possible, bumping up against the side of the coffin.

“Which is why you’re wet right now. Makes tons of sense. Actually, that’d probably explain a lot about you and Logan.” She could hear him smirking into the darkness and she jerked her heel back, intent on kicking him she didn’t know where, anywhere would satisfy.

But he had grabbed her knee reflexively, holding her still, and Max growled in frustration. 

“You know, you make the most interesting noises. I bet you sound just like this in bed.”

“You can get your thoughts away from there right now because you’re never gonna know.” Max gritted her teeth as his finger traced down the entire length of her calf in lazy circles.

“That’d be slightly more convincing if you weren’t dumping pheromones, you know.”

“Alec, if you don’t unhand me right now—”

A lock flipped and the lid was suddenly gone, light pouring in. “Are the children playing nicely?” British Eddie’s face came into view, just before her fist smashed into it. Man, that felt good.

Both she and Alec hopped out, back to back and primed to kick some steelhead ass. Max would get to his later.

***

“Why do you always have to horn in on my heists?” she asked in a resentful half-whisper.

“I was here first,” he growled at her, scoping the small room quickly, stressed.

She could hear the guards coming. They must have heard something, neither she nor Alec, but it didn’t keep them from doing a thorough search of the building anyway.

Dammit.

Alec moved to the storage closet and Max felt something in her stomach drop. It was the only space in the room they could hide—who outfitted their office with frontless desks like this?—and it was small.

It was an odd thing to hope that it was full so that they would get caught. Because the alternative—

Had Alec opening an empty cabinet, letting out a sigh of relief, and promptly climbing in.

“You coming?” he yell-whispered after her, seating himself, back against one side, legs bent, and the only way it would work was if she sat in his lap, mirroring his pose.

“I’m not getting in there with you!” she whispered, outraged, feeling heat flush up at the thought.

Alec shrugged and moved to pull the door shut. “Suit yourself.”

The frustrated noise was completely against her will, but she made it anyway, moving over and keeping him from closing himself in. She turned right, then left, trying to see how it could work better, and Alec just rolled his eyes, grabbed a hand, and hauled her into his lap.

He got the door closed—quietly—just after.

The shock of it was more than she could process, Alec under her, all warmth and muscle and she could feel it every time he breathed, every time his chest moved against her back.

She could feel his heartbeat.

“You know, if you were any tenser you could be classified as a statue,” he commented, almost conversational and she was _not_ having a chat while she was sitting on his _lap_ and five seconds from being discovered by sociopathic scientists outfitted with tazers and no sense of human dignity.

Max finally made herself breathe, gasping in something that was all dust and metal and Alec.

“Shut up,” she whispered, still sounding breathless, but she couldn’t muster the force behind it.

“You should be happy. A lot of girls _beg_ to be where you are right now.” Max knew he was smirking, even if she couldn’t see it.”

“And I’m sure you indulge them, skank that you are.”

He laughed, lightly, and let go of the door, making it bump open just a little, just enough. Max quickly took up where his hand was, holding it firmly shut, the little shot of adrenaline making her shaky.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She was _pissed_ and only Alec could get her this pissed and why did he have to be such a—

And then she knew, both of his hands coming around to her front, pressing at her stomach just so.

“Alec…” she warned, grabbing at one hand.

Which seemed exactly what he wanted, his hand pressing hers into her hip as his other—the only one now free—found the gap between her shirt and pants, pressing gentle fingertips to the hot skin he found there.

“Yes, Maxie?” He sounded way too cheerful and God! He was so annoying.

“You’re molesting me again!” She sounded so offended, so disbelieving, even to her own ears and his laugh wasn’t at all unexpected.

“Think of it this way, at least I’m not talking,” he said, indulgent, moving his fingers rhythmically.

“You are now.”

“That’s ‘cause you provoked me.” Two fingers slid under her waistband, pressing low, firmly caressing a hipbone in a way that made her catch her breath.

“Ah ah, I heard that,” he said, nose kind of pressing at the back of her head.

He dodged when she whipped her head back, tried to catch him in the face and do some damage. Stupid Manticore training.

“Not very nice,” he murmured, moving over to her ear and nuzzling, his fingers sliding over to touch her belly, making her skin tingle.

She’d never been touched like this, like every inch of her was being sampled, caressed, _appreciated_. It made her instincts war with one another, mind and body wanting different things, confusing.

“Soft,” he mumbled, underneath his breath, and his voice was awed, like he didn’t even realize he was saying it.

The tone made her shiver. 

Alec made a pleased sound, stroking her bellybutton with his thumb, slow, so very slow.

But no, she hated this, hated him.

“Stop,” she whispered, desperate.

And then he did, or, he stopped moving his fingers anyway, both of them tensing when they heard three people come in, walking a thorough circuit around their room.

“Clear. Let’s move to the next hall.”

Max and Alec stayed like that, frozen, from the cold of fear or the heat of—something else…Max didn’t even want to think about it.

She scrambled out as soon as she heard them turn the corner, not looking back at Alec at all, forgetting about the job.

She needed to get out, away.

***

“Would you stop _stalking_ me?” she ground out, appalled that he was here, with her, _again_.

“Because you’re so charming _of course_ I want to follow you around. For your information, I’m following up on something for a friend.” He actually sounded defensive but no, she wasn’t going to think about Alec and his stupid emotions and what he was up to because she was not thinking about Alec.

“Like you have any,” she said acidly.

“More than you, sweetheart,” he sniped back, harsh.

“More minions and pawns, anyway. Real satisfying relationships.”

“And I can’t imagine why anyone would want to associate with such a cold-hearted—”

“Shh!” They’d both heard it, the sound of several people moving down the hall, the squeak of wheels on linoleum sounding ominous in the otherwise silent underbelly of the hospital.

“Oh, great, someone had to go and die,” Alec grumbled, looking around at all the shiny, shiny equipment and absolutely no place to hide.

Max made a disgusted noise. “That was a person, Alec.”

“Yeah, and that person’s about to be our funeral.” He moved over to an empty lab table, finding a sheet and hopping onto it.

Realization dawned on Max when he billowed the sheet up, dread came on its heels as she watched it settle along his body.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she hissed, but all she could hear were the attendants talking, the wheels squeaking, ever louder.

“Get in. They’ll just think we’re a really tall, fat person.” He held the sheet up, looking at her like she was a bit on the dim side for not immediately _jumping on him_ and pretending to be a corpse.

She was definitely the more rational of the two of them for hesitating. A _corpse_.

On top of him.

Max grunted and swung herself up, holding herself over him with her arms as she slid her legs down on the outside of his.

“Not that I don’t appreciate all the wiggling and squirming,” he said, dry, right before he knocked her arms from under her. Max landed on him with an inelegant ‘oof!’ and she felt the whisper of the sheet settle around her just as the fluorescents clicked on.

And she was on top of him, pretending to be a corpse, the light shining through the white sheet easily.

She could see his _face_ and the anonymity of their previous encounters had made this…easier somehow.

Alec watched her with inscrutable eyes, moving his hand back down slowly from where it had pulled the sheet to cover them. Max’s hands balled into fists, clenched against the cold metal of the exam table.

Her chin pressed against his chest, right next to his heart, her hips pressed into his thighs, her weight resting fully on him.

His eyes were…something else, penetrating, and Max had to look away, couldn’t watch him watch her.

Two fingers on her cheek were a shock and she barely controlled herself from jumping. The fingers slipped down, moving in a caress that was…she didn’t know what it was. Max couldn’t look, couldn’t shrug away, didn’t know if she wanted to. It made her breath catch and her mouth open, his eyes zeroing in on the movement, his fingers following soon after, just hovering, just there, not even touching now, his heat doing enough.

Time slowed, stretched. Max breathed out against his fingers, feeling the air deflected back and she could swear his eyes actually changed color, darkened, and then he was touching her, pressing her bottom lip down, very tips of his fingers just slightly in her mouth.

She snapped her teeth shut.

But he was too quick again, had seen it coming, snatching his hand away. His lips curled in pleasure, like he liked that, and something twitched against her belly, even as the morgue attendants wheeled their body over next to them, grunted with the exertion of moving dead weight. Literally, dead weight.

And here she was all pressed up against Alec, muted light making him look soft and inviting, her heart racing.

He could probably feel that, too.

They didn’t move, stayed just that way until the attendants moved on, back toward the exit, and then Max lifted her chin, enough for him to know she wasn’t about to give in. His smile turned into a smirk, promising something dark and hot, hot like she never dreamed, even in the most sweat-soaked heat-fantasy she’d ever entertained.

She didn’t doubt he could deliver; she’d heard enough to know.

But then his expression was shut away, not by his doing, but by the attendants switching off the lights, the door shutting with a clang that had the ring of finality to it.

Max rolled off, immediate, letting the sheet fall to the floor as she hurriedly fixed her hair. 

Alec took more time, sitting up slowly, shaking himself. “Never thought I’d be grateful for the obesity epidemic,” he muttered.

“Whatever. Just leave me alone.” And she couldn’t even come up with a proper retort. What was _wrong_ with her?

“Hey, I saved your ass,” he protested, swinging around and hopping from the table lightly, shaking out his muscles.

“Just a drop in the bucket of what you owe me,” she bit back. With that, Max turned and stalked over to the ME’s desk, grabbing the file she needed, never once looking back.

***

“So, how ‘bout it, Max?” he asked, that gleam in his eye telling her he was up to something, all challenging and strategizing and infuriating.

It made her skin itch and she just wanted to wipe away that look, all the ways he looked at her, once and for all.

“You’re goin’ down, pretty boy.”

“So you admit I’m pretty?” he asked, preening, highlights in his hair gleaming as he proudly lifted his head.

“Fifty for the game?” she asked, ignoring his antics.

He tilted his head, that _look_ back. “Why don’t we make it more interesting?”

Max flicked her eyes down, then up, letting him feel her regard. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Loser has to do whatever the winner wants.” He settled his pool cue on the ground, like a shoe dropping, nothing but a challenge.

Max smirked. “You are so getting my baby gas for a month.”

He lifted an eyebrow, cool. “That a yes?”

“Rack ‘em. I break.”

The cool, collected look was gone, his mouth curling into a shark-like smile, pure pleasure at her answer. It made something in her shiver, but Max ignored it, making sure her expression stayed disinterested.

She had little trouble; enhanced reflexes were worth something here, and besides, she had incentive. Alec just stood by, watching her with that infuriating smirk, eyes sweeping all over her body like a physical caress. Worse, he had an excuse. He was analyzing an opponent, not ogling her breasts when she leaned over to make a shot.

The tiniest flick of his tongue, just wetting his bottom lip, and her timing was off, shot careening just a hair too wide of the sweet spot.

The crowd that had gathered gasped, murmurs broke out amongst the assembled people, even as Max straightened, slowly, feeling the muscles in her back flex.

Alec moved beside her, staring at the table meditatively. She’d gotten three-quarters of the way through the stripes and then he had to go and lick his lips.

Max refused to look into that too closely. Dangerous ground, there.

“So, what should I demand? A strip-o-gram, maybe?” he asked, moving in close, eyes shining genuinely, like he was actually asking, like he didn’t already have it in his head. 

Which he did; Max could see it.

“Gettin’ a little ahead of yourself, there, dontcha think?”

He shook his head slowly, eyes trailing across her body again. Were the terms ‘ _anything_?’ “No. I’m really not.” It floated by her ear, husky and low, his presence pressing close, and then he was off, attacking the solids like a general systematically decimating enemy fighters. It was methodical, it was focused, it was the epitome of everything they were supposed to be.

And it was impressive. Max watched, vaguely awed just like everyone else, as he made impossible shot after impossible shot, biting his lip in concentration, the whole world reduced to this pool table.

It was—thoughtless, effortless, and consuming. Even Max would admit he was hot in that moment, a sentiment shared by the whispering women around her, snippets like “just gorgeous” and “oh, God” filtering through the heated rush in her head.

Max didn’t even see the eight ball sink into the corner pocket. Alec had already dropped his cue on the table and gotten a hand in her hair, pulled her to him, just that fast, even before the ball sunk in with a final clank.

But then his lips were taking hers in a kiss that was all about demanding, not asking, saying all sorts of things about following where he led and the thing was—the thing was she wanted to, she let him, sagging into him as he pressed her back against the pool table, as his mouth moved over hers, expert.

She heard the clatter of something wooden, she heard some people gasp, she heard her heart beating in her head as his tongue licked in, slid against hers, making her fingers clench against his shoulders.

She tried to breathe and got only him, she felt only him, tasted only him—well, him and beer—the world had focused, narrowed, and she was caught, completely incapable of letting him go, of resisting, of doing anything but exactly what he wanted her to do.

It was…surreal. Guys didn’t kiss her like this, like they had what she wanted and they knew it. They didn’t make her want to succumb, to go with it, let someone else be in control.

So of course Alec would.

His tongue tickled at the roof of her mouth…and then he was gone, moving away from her quickly, but she knew that look in his eyes; it was unmistakable.

“I think I need some alone time,” Sketchy’s voice floated over to them and several people chuckled, but most still seemed shocked, OC and a whole bunch of other people gaping, eyes wide.

Alec eyed their audience as he smirked. “Beer’s on me,” he called, jogging up the steps and to the bar, accompanied by a series of claps and whistles.

Max breathed. Or tried to, anyway, her mind still back there, her hands now braced on the wood of the pool table, holding herself up by instinct and nothing else.

“Boo. Boo!” Cindy called, and Max roused herself, walked over dumbly. “Girl, you okay?”

Was she? “Yeah, I just—yeah.” Her voice sounded gravelly. Damn him.

“They make ‘em pretty and they make ‘em good, ‘cause even Original Cindy gotta say that was the hottest kiss she’s ever laid eyes on.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He floored you, anyway, and shugah, I ain’t never seen that.” OC was trying to tell her something with her expression, but Max couldn’t focus.

She shook herself, grabbed the nearest beer and took a drink, trying to get rid of his taste, of that memory.

It didn’t help.

“Did I ever tell you guys about the time I drank a Russian mobster under the table? Man, those were the good old days,” Alec mused, setting the new pitcher on their table and smiling, like nothing was amiss.

Like he hadn’t just kicked her whole world off course.

***

She caught up with him, after, outside Crash. “I don’t know what your deal is, but I won’t break up with Logan.”

Alec turned and laughed, _at_ her, she was sure, breath fogging slightly. “Max, you just shared the hottest kiss in the history of the world with me back there. In front of an entire room of your friends and coworkers. You kinda already did.”

She opened her mouth to snap back at him…but what could she say? Of course it would get back to him; it was a small universe and Logan hung out here on a regular basis. He’d hear it as soon as he walked into the place again, probably with consoling pats to his back about how he lost his girl to that other guy.

Max must have worn a despairing look because Alec shook his head, eyes softening. “You know, Max, sometimes not making a choice _is_ making a choice.”

Anger burned through her, quick and sudden, like that. All it took was that sanctimonious tone and God, he was such _ass_. “And what the hell does that mean?”

“That means that you did make a choice, in here,” he pressed two fingers against her heart, “if not in here.” He flicked her head, just for good measure.

“I don’t—”

He leaned in, letting his heat sweep over her. “You made your choice the second you didn’t kick my ass after the warehouse. So start owning it, huh?”

With that he settled his jacket more firmly around himself in the chilly night air, jauntily walking away, whistling of all things.

Max just watched him go, mind blank.

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


End file.
